


More Real Than A Ghost

by theselittlethings



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending With Notes of Hopeful Possibility, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Ghost Ben Solo, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Inappropriate Use of the Force, More Like A "Complicate It", Not A Fix-It, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Kylo Ren, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Sex, Secret Relationship, Shame, Stream of Consciousness, That's Not How The Force Works (Star Wars), Vaginal Fingering, Woman on Top, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28060818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theselittlethings/pseuds/theselittlethings
Summary: "I'll be here. I'll always be here."Her nodding head taps his face, confirming his tangibility. He kisses her neck, grasps her misshaped waist, twists her just enough to catch her mouth."You'll always be mine…"(AND/OR: But the reality of getting knocked up by a Force ghost is more complicated than it first may seem.)
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 22
Kudos: 142
Collections: Force Bond Metaphysics (Oneshots)





	More Real Than A Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> idk what to say for myself for this one. mind the tags + let me know if there are any missing. didn't self-edit too closely and left this dangerously unbetaed.
> 
> based on a oneshot idea that came to mind long ago. got away from me a little bit, but figured put it out there while feeling brave and see what happens. enjoy 💝

Ben hears the speeder.

The flat endless sands on Tattooine carry the sound from faraway, a distant hum announcing her arrival. He continues to stare at the ceiling, muddling through his conflicting emotions about how to greet Rey.

She was already gone when he appeared, when he crossed over into the living plane from his own. He wandered through the silent homestead, peeked through the windows to see the two suns already lowering. Early evening. He phased away soon after Rey last fell asleep tucked against his chest. Was gone almost an entire day cycle this time, his form (he can't really call it his body) needing to recharge in its proper realm. Lately he stays here as long as possible. Unable to pull away from the sense of inevitability looming in the Force itself, a restlessness he can't ignore.

Being one with the Force has its downsides, especially navigating the metaphysical limitations & boundaries. He's not quite a Ghost. Not quite Energy. Whatever the fuck he is, he's tangible enough to impact his surroundings in some respects and not in others. Only seen by those with some level of Force sensitivity, stuck in a strange in-between where he hasn't encountered any dead relatives yet. Even though they reach out to Rey more frequently than she'd like.

They ask after him every time. Apparently.

A riddle for later. Not with more pressing matters on his mind. The speeder whistles louder as the pitch winds down, slowing to park smoothly. Hopefully she's doing that at least —

The concern stirs him to move. Ben rises from the lounge in the sitting area. Wipes down the front of his plain black clothes, out of habit rather than need. A part of him wonders if he'll ever get used to being in this… state, still strange after enduring it for over a standard year already. He heads to the entry, lingers in the arched door to the central courtyard. The steep slope of sand covering the compound's stairway was one of the first things they swept away, using the material to seal cracks in the settled pourstone. Ben inhales through his nose — his form impulsively continuing to "breathe" — needing a second to balance his unsettled nerves.

_Is that…_

He hears Rey's voice in the spaces between his thoughts. His appearances are rarely a surprise, their bond lasting even after his death. Its connection ached like a hole in his chest until he stumbled through the aether to break into semi-existence. Just following her, the only thing that felt real in the sea of dimmed stars & blurry gateways.

Finally he found the one that brought him here. To the shithole planet where his grandfather was a slave. To the moisture farm where his uncle grew up, where Rey camped out for reasons to which Ben can't relate.

But the solitude and privacy, they both appreciate.

 _Just me,_ Ben responds.

The engine sputters and cuts out. The vehicle utility pit opens noisily, the aged gears crunching despite being cleared of caked sand. Chargers whirr on as Rey plugs in her ride out of view. Ben studies the closed archway leading to the garage. Wanders towards it unconsciously in the silent seconds that follow, deciding that he should go see if she needs help with her things.

He walks through the sealed doorway, not wasting his stamina on the determination required to interact with his surroundings. A metal scraping noise comes from the rickety elevator. The machine ascends with a long yawn, still needing a couple parts switched out to return to full functionality. Ben waits in the "foyer," halfway down the catwalk to the lift. Rey's exhaustion (and irritation) is palpable through their bond, likely amplified to signal she's not in a great mood. The elevator opens. He predicts her first words correctly before she says,

"I'm fine!"

Her face is hidden beneath her goggles and hood, her mouth & nose covered by a thin scarf she's yet to resituate. She rearranges her knapsack, trying to hide the overstuffed bag's weight. The straps pull and tighten her poncho, displaying her rounded belly prominently.

He starts, "Let me —"

"It's fine," she insists. "Just —"

Her tone and visible frown dissuade him from arguing. She gestures for Ben to get out of her way.

"Come on," she groans. "I got it." 

He remembers to be patient. "Alright. Fine."

And drifts back through the doorway to the courtyard, leaving room for her to navigate through the skinny catwalk alone.

Rey is one thing in this world that he can touch consistently. Her changed body reminds him everyday.

Ben crosses his arms. She shuffles around a bit on the other side. Another silence. Three beeps keyed into the refurbished lock, a task from the second list they made. The entry flies open and Rey slides her goggles on her forehead.

"You been here long?"

Her face is flushed from exertion and freckled by sunlight, shadowed by her hood's dark frame. The backpack wobbles awkwardly as she shrugs it off, flopping onto the ground with a puff of sand like smoke.

"Not long," Ben replies over her dry cough, crouching to examine her pack. "You shouldn't be overworking —"

"I'm fine."

She stretches her arms, rises on her tiptoes with a long sigh. The poncho seems smaller than it was some months ago, the hem shortening as her stomach grew to hide her feet. Her long wraps and leggings stay (mostly) useful. The camisoles & tanks were slowly swapped for oversized tunics and long shifts. Rey shakes sand from her clothes and scuffed boots, nods to the pack.

"Could you —"

"Yeah." Ben crouches by the bag. His hand glides through the object, intangible like a holo. "Just a second."

He glances over to see her say,

"Thank you."

Her hood slides down and the goggles come off, her hair flattened by the straps & fabric. Rey offers a small smile, her features softened by a silent apology.

"Of course," Ben says. There's a beat. "Least I can do."

Her expression is unchanged. She rests one hand on her middle, patting the swell gently.

"I appreciate it. Sprout's been restless today."

 _Sprout._ A silly nickname for their child that's stuck so long it'll be strange to hear it replaced. Less than nine weeks away now. Rey turns away to head into the homestead, calling back,

"Meet me in the sitting room with that?"

"Sure," Ben answers, though he's not sure she hears.

He watches her walk to the entry, her strides slower and wider. She doesn't look back with a wink or barb, as she does on other days. Ben feels hollow, even more spectral than usual. Her frustration and discomfort bleeds through their connection, her mind reeling too much to shield it properly.

That's rare.

Ben furrows his brows, waves his hand through Rey's backpack once more. His cycles in and out of existence are a constant source of tension, have caused arguments where she cries & shouts:

_I am alone! It's — It's not the same, and it never will be!_

When she's overwhelmed. When she's sick. When she discovers something else wrong with the farm. Ben kneels on the sand, hovers his palms above the backpack. Tries to ignore the still intruding memory from a few standard days ago.

_We'll find a way for me to come back. For us to be a family —_

_Come off it. We both know that's not true._

_The Force hasn't let me pass through yet —_

_Let you pass through well enough already!_ She pointed to Sprout and laughed, clearly not amused at all. _It's not the same as you being here. It's not._

Rey stormed away towards the loft, her calloused hands balled into fists. Ben left her alone for maybe an hour or so, not tracking the time. Waited until she came down in his favorite nightcloth (a thin white one sheer enough to see through) and asked if he could join her in bed.

None of his absences since then were as long as this one. Maybe it reminded her of what transpired the other night. Maybe something happened when he was gone. Maybe he's overthinking it and her gloom has nothing to do with him at all.

He'll know soon enough.

Ben closes his eyes, goes through the motions of inhaling deeply to align his focus. He concentrates on the image of the stupid fucking backpack instead of her darkened nipples through her threadbare gown. His hands lower inch by inch. Eventually make contact with rough fabric, his fingers curling to dig in.

**There.**

Initial contact for deliberate action is tricky after reentry. But once completed, it's much easier to repeat. Ben pats down the knapsack, feels its size and bites his lip (both literally & figuratively). He comes to a stand, slings it over his shoulder. Looks down to note he still casts no shadow. Just the backpack all alone, a black splotch floating precariously. The shape's blurry and warped, the desert suns quickly setting to gloaming. 

"…Ben?"

Her voice is distant. Thin and worried enough for him to know what she means…

"Still here," he returns.

 _Sorry,_ she whispers through their bond. Too embarrassed to say it aloud. _I just —_

_It's okay._

Ben increases his pace, idly musing on how his movements (his "footsteps") are silent to all but Rey. He returns to the sitting area where he began, drops the knapsack by the entryway.

"Here?" he asks after it lands.

"Yeah," she replies, lying on the sofa and staring at one of the bare stone walls. "I'll sort it out tomorrow."

Her boots are kicked off towards the middle of the room. Her poncho hangs on a hook by the entry with her scarf. Rey sits at one end of the seat with a pair of pillows behind her back, her legs resting across the cushions. She wears a dark gray tunic, her wraps rearranged to support her heavy tits. One palm rubs her middle. Her leggings are brown and plain, cut at the ankles of her feet. Her hair is still tied in three buns, loose clumps sticking to her temples and falling over her face. Ben hesitates, lingering at the entrance,

"How are you feeling?"

"Been better," she replies honestly. Rey shifts in her seat to find a more comfortable position. "Sprout will get sleepy soon."

She refluffs the pillows and closes her eyes, voice sweet & gentle through their bond:

_Shhh, it's okay…_

Ben's heart tightens at the sight, knows she'll be a great mother someday. Sooner rather than later, even if neither of them feel ready. And his tether to their bond aches too, sensing this piece of himself inside her that he cannot reach. Not the same way she can, at least.

"You went to the marketplace?" he provides conversationally, kneeling beside her on the floor.

"Yes." Ben watches her speak in profile. "Had a nice surprise. Humanoid pair set up a temporary junk stall, tons of cheap baby things."

"Ah." Explains the overstuffed bag. "You know I'm not going to let you carry that up to Sprout's room."

Rey chuckles with another little grin. "Fine by me."

An awkward silence follows. Ben can still sense that discomfort from when she arrived. Not just from his seed rooted in her womb, but a sinking feeling of shame. She keeps avoiding his gaze, humming across the connection. He cups his palm below hers, her belly now too big for him to span.

"I'm here," Ben says aloud, trying to put both Rey & Sprout at ease.

More silence. A now-familiar Force signature beats beneath Ben's hand, flickering & dimming as it grows weary with sleep.

 _I'm here,_ Ben repeats.

A tiny kick of recognition. Another sign that he can be heard from beyond the grave.

"Are you okay, Rey?"

He can't help to add:

_What are you not telling me?_

Her eyes open to meet his gaze, both of them at the same level with Ben next to her on his knees. He leans in to kiss her temple, sliding his hand down her middle.

 _You're not hiding it well,_ he tells her, grazing his lips along her ear.

"I know," she admits. "Just…"

"You can tell me," he whispers.

Rey shudders unconsciously, reacting to his voice like she can't help herself. He kisses her neck, trailing his hand to find the bottom hem of her tunic.

"What happened?" he asks more pointedly.

Her cheeks flush deeply. "It's… It's silly. I'll be fine —"

"You're always fine," he interrupts. "You can tell me."

These moments remind him of how little he can do to protect her, no matter how strong his instinct. He snakes beneath her top, her hands scurrying away to let him press his on her tightened skin. A static fuzzes through his palm upon contact. The Force hums through his form approvingly.

Rey drapes one arm across the back of the sofa, scooting down to give him more room. Ben stares the outline of his hand beneath her tunic, covers her outturned navel and urges,

"Please tell me." There's a beat. "Maybe there's something I can —"

"That woman with the old shitty gears had her mat out by the produce stand again," Rey blurts out. "The nosy one. That asks around about me."

Ben recalls the story of their last interaction, when she badgered Rey about why she always comes to the market alone.

Rey continues, "Went over when she called me this time, find out what her problem is, and she says point blank —"

She scrunches her face, mimicking an disgusted expression, and raising the pitch of her voice:

"— 'Not common to see a young woman in your condition here by herself, many better places to hide these things.' So I said to her —"

Ben taps his fingers on her belly. He hates hearing her recite the excuse, no matter how true it is in theory.

"— 'I have nothing to hide. I'm a widow, fixing my family's homestead. You've talked about me enough to know that already.' And then she says —"

Ben feels a bump against his hand, smirking at the adorable face Rey makes. He urges,

"What did she say?"

Rey bites her lip, gripping the sofa a little too hard when she answers,

"That everyone knows the math doesn't add up. That… several people remember when I first arrived. Months too early. To have a pilot fly in and out unseen."

And Ben can feel her heart sink, can see her eyes becoming glassy with tears. He kisses her hair, shifts to cradle her stomach from beneath.

"Who cares what they think?" he attempts, choosing every word carefully. "On many planets, it's —"

"The Resistance still thinks I'm off training somewhere."

**Wait.**

"They still don't know?" Ben asks.

She rushes to get it all out at once. "I- It just hasn't come up. I haven't said anything. And what — And what if Sprout looks like you and —"

"Would that be the worst thing?" he quips.

Rey glares. "That's not what I mean."

He knows that. "It'll be okay —"

"Easy for you to say," she snaps.

Ben pets her rounded middle again, touching her impulsively to remember that he's still here. Enough to leave himself inside her even when he fades away. He reminds her,

"You're not alone."

There's a beat. "I can't get rid of you anyway."

She sounds defeated. Starts sitting up and announces,

"I'm gonna wash up."

Ben removes his hand from her shirt. Presses another kiss against her cheek. "Are you —"

"I'm fine." The usual mantra. Rey pulls away, swings her feet to the floor. "Just… feeling gross. That's all."

Ben watches her rise from below. Rey pauses to unknot her wraps behind her back, lost in her own thoughts. She stops halfway, shakes her head.

"Rey?"

She doesn't look up. "Yeah?"

"I'll meet you in the loft."

"Yeah. Okay."

Ben stays kneeling, stares at her back as she waddles out of the room. A tiny bounce lightens her steps, her way of rocking Sprout to sleep. He waits until she disappears completely, at a loss for what to do. An unseen charger buzzes when the power's switched on in the fresher. For a couple seconds, Ben pictures her undressing, examining her pair of prominent stretchmarks in the fogged mirror.

One day he may never reappear. But those stamps will remain on her body all the same.

The thought isn't as comforting as usual. Ben floats mindlessly out of the sitting room. His surroundings barely register when he moves through the walls to find the stairs. The ascent is listless and effortless, not bothering to pretend his feet touch ground.

He stops at the landing of the sleeping lofts, between two open doorways, choosing the one leading to Sprout's future room. A bassinet is pushed up against one wall across from a short set of drawers. An unassembled mobile rests in another corner with a carrying case, a toy ship, and a sling. Some charcoal drawings hang near the doorway, pictures of flowers and stars and creatures from planets faraway.

All done by Rey. He remembers the first time he saw her artwork, long before he passed on. Back when he still reigned as Supreme Leader and saw her hunched over a sketchbook in his quarters.

_What is that?_

_Nothing._

Funny how much they would ignore one another then, despite meeting frequently in dreams.

(It doesn't matter now.)

Ben surveys the little room. Swears he can feel his heart thumping against his ribs, excited by the idea of having an heir — no matter how terrifying the prospect seems when he considers it too deeply.

(What's the point of having a father you can't see?)

Or maybe Sprout will see him. They'll find out eventually.

"Ben?"

He spins around hearing Rey's voice behind him in her room. More time passing indeterminately. Got too lost in his own thoughts to notice her coming upstairs. Standard symptoms of his semi-existence, more reminders of his… impermanence. Intangibility.

"Just in here," he calls back.

A lamp switches on, dimmed to keep the light low. Ben hesitates a second longer, charging his fingertips to touch the pourstone walls in his child's room. The material is rough, stippled, and real. Much more so than he is, who phases through them like meaningless boundaries.

"It's coming together nicely," Ben comments, lingering just a few seconds longer. "I'll put together the mobile tomorrow morning."

He drops his hand from the wall. Listens to her shuffling across the hallway, pacing her quarters to open drawers and situate her things. The sleeping lofts get darker before the rest of the homestead, making it seem cozy & late. 

"I'm exhausted," Rey sighs. Creaking springs follow. "Is it too early or too late for me to nap, you think?"

He approaches her bedroom and replies,

"Neither. Are you decent?"

"Never," she snickers.

Ben tenses his jaw, concentrates on his hand approaching the entry — 

He makes contact again, pushing hard. The synthetic material is flimsy, temporarily installed on hinges until they find the correct gears for the gates. He underestimates the strength of his influence, the door flying open to clap the wall.

"Kriff!" Rey shouts. "You scared me —"

She freezes meeting his gaze, palm still covering her sternum mid-gasp. Her eyes widen studying his awed & dumbfounded expression.

"Ben, what are…"

He can't stop himself.

"You're beautiful."

He means it. Rey sits at the edge of her bed, wearing her sheer nightcloth again with a towel across her lap. The purpled sky outside shadows the room's artificial lighting to a more natural shade, defining every curve of her sunkissed skin. Her half-dried hair sticks to her shoulders. Water drips between her swollen tits. And her belly looks huge, sticking out from her skinny frame and resting on her thighs.

If Ben was alive, everyone would know he'd been inside her. He'd walk with her through markets, defend her in battlefields, keep her warm and fed and safe. Wake up with her every morning, sleep by her side every night, and show her all the planets in the galaxy she's never seen. 

Nothing resembling this half-assed playing house, where he's less permanent than a ghost.

Ben draws nearer, sits beside her on the bed. Despite his size, the surface makes no sound, doesn't sag beneath weight. He leans in close to press his side against hers, to pretend he's still solid and clear.

"You're beautiful," he repeats.

"…Thank you."

"It's true. Especially now."

Rey blushes and fidgets with the towel on her legs. Her emotions are more guarded, better hidden behind her mental defenses but revealed by her limbs.

Her knee bounces with a nervous energy.

Ben grabs it with one hand, wraps his other around her waist. The Force thrums where his veins used to be, tuning to Rey's close proximity —

"I'm here…"

"Here right now," she corrects.

"I'm here," he insists, more commanding than intended. He grips her side harder to convince himself. "Always."

Rey leans into his embrace, still contemplative, racing through thoughts she leaves unsaid. Her warmth spreads through his hollow frame, activating his senses to their mortal capacities — 

_Fuck, you smell so good._

Every time feels raw and new. Her scent fills his nose all at once. He smooths her flimsy nightgown between his fingertips. His own clothing thickens to sit on his skin, to become distinct from his form. And he knows Rey can feel it too, shivering as the Force cinches its Dyad's link.

 _You don't have to worry about it right now,_ Ben whispers across their minds.

_But it's so soon…_

She rests her hand on her stomach, not needing to elaborate. A familiar pang of guilt burrows in his ribs and he tells her,

"I'll go back more often. As much as you want me to."

Ben watches her profile carefully, her eyes closing as she listens intently.

"I'll be here no matter what," he swears, as he has countless times before. "You won't be alone."

There's a beat.

_I'm scared, Ben._

His false breaths fall in time with hers, mirroring them instinctively. He hugs her closer, kisses her hair.

"I'm here. I'll be here."

She nods halfheartedly, beginning to relax in spite of herself, the Force soothing away both their uncertainties…

At least for now. When they're together, when they touch, when their fate proves to transcend death & space. They've wondered aloud whether it's a trick, a false sense of security. Or a promise of a happy ending for their bizarre fate —

Rey sits up, scoots away to the head of the bed. A static echoes on his skin despite her absence, still reacting to her touch.

"We'll figure something out," Rey provides, like she tries to end the conversation quickly. "A schedule, maybe."

For him to return to that other plane. "Right."

She fluffs the pillows and says, "Sorry. Just exhausted from today."

Ben stands to give her room to lie down, admiring her from above as she finds a cozy position on the bed. Her tits sway with her awkward movements, her nipples dark & hard through her clothes. She sighs resting on her side, wriggling to yank down her nightgown to cover herself properly.

"That's better…"

Odd, he thinks, to feign modesty when her fresh washed-skin's completely visible. When he can marvel at her ripened figure, bright against the plain sheets. When his limbs are fuzzy with solidity, keyed with anticipation, striving to become more real.

"Looks like you could use some company," Ben quips.

That makes her smile. Just a bit. "Only yours, Supreme Leader."

"Only for you, my Queen."

Another silly custom between them. From very early on, before Sprout came into being. A joke the morning after a night of playing the role for…

(Too bad it never happened when he was alive. Back when the title came with threat and meaning.)

He tenses his jaw circling the bedframe. Freezes at the other side, watching Rey's back as she stares at the wall. A rough blanket drapes over one spot, covering a mirror hanged weeks before he reappeared.

Ben sits on the mattress.

This time it dips beneath his weight.

"Rey?"

The suns set lower below the horizon, further dimming the setting to feel more like a dream.

"Hm?"

"I'll be here," he repeats.

Another beat. "I know."

Ben removes his boots & socks, even though they collect no dirt or sweat or sand. Peels off his dark shirt and drops it beside them on the floor. The items feel distant and unnatural, separable by materialization instead of determination. He messes his hair, adjusts to the cool evening air against his increasingly tactile skin.

"Ben?"

"Yes?" he answers too quickly.

"Sometimes… it's hard to feel like I'm not alone."

Her tone is low, timid to show this vulnerability. He blinks, hears her breath catch, chooses his words carefully,

"I feel the same way."

_It's not because of you —_

_It's because I'm dead._

_Ben —_

_It's okay._ He clears his throat and repeats, "It's okay."

And he lies beside her on his back, head leaving a dent on a lumpy pillow. Every wrinkle on the bed blooms a warmth down his spine, dormant nerves reacting to stimuli again. He wiggles his toes, spans his fingers, takes a couple seconds to regain his bearings horizontally.

"Do you feel lonely right now?" Ben asks the ceiling.

"I did this morning," she answers quietly. "When I woke up and you weren't here."

His tether to their bond aches in his ribs, from her sorrow & his own. Ben rolls on his side, kneading her arm while leaving some distance between them.

The bed shifts when he props on his elbow. He admits, "I felt it."

"You did?"

"Yes." When he woke up on the Other Side, hating himself and his partial existence, wishing more than anything that he could be there. "When you woke up, it woke me up too."

"It did?"

Ben pauses, squeezing her shoulder hard, remembering how he waded through stars and called her name, hoping to reach her thoughts.

"I could hear you crying. Could you hear me?"

Ben already knows her answer:

"…No."

"Well." He scoots inward, drapes his arm over her breasts to guide her nearer. "We're not alone now."

They close the gap simultaneously, both of them inching toward the other to fall into another embrace. He cradles her against his bare chest, her pelvis sitting on his like a seat. Ben holds tight to press every point of contact, to make her nightgown stick against his flesh. Their bond unwinds and intertwines, the Force sealing the final gaps in Ben's form —

Rey shudders from the sensation.

 _You can rest,_ he tells her. _You don't have to stay awake for me._

_Don't know if I'll be able to sleep anyway._

Ben nods into her hair, the fresh scent becoming more intense. He rests his hand on her belly, brushes his thumb over the taut skin.

 _Then we can just stay here,_ he responds. _Whatever my Queen desires._

She chuckles, breaking the moment's tension with some levity. "Queen of the sand kingdoms, from Jakku to Tattooine."

"No." Ben slides his palm below her navel, still impressed by the swell's size. "The whole galaxy."

He pins his hips flush to hers. Rey grinds into him playfully, her tiny smile unbroken.

"Could have been —"

"We still are."

He means it, giving each syllable its proper gravity. Even if he's fucking dead, this is **ONE** thing that cannot be ripped away.

"Two halves of a link unseen for generations."

Rey squirms in his grip, her bump rubbing along his palm. A thudding rises in his ears, as if he still has a pulse, excited by her changed body.

"Ben…"

She sighs, her senses amplified by his presence as well. The room's blurred shadows grow bolder. The cool night air from the opened vents raises goosebumps on their limbs. The surroundings are more vivid, his heartbeat pumps faster — 

"I'll be here. I'll always be here."

Her nodding head taps his face, confirming his tangibility. He kisses her neck, grasps her misshaped waist, twists her just enough to catch her mouth.

"You'll always be mine…"

Rey splits his lips with her tongue, tasting him eagerly. She wriggles for better access, reminding Ben of a creature upturned on its shell.

He disconnects. Chuckles and pecks her cheek. "Okay?"

And positions her on her side, firmed enough to overpower her with his weight. She relents with a long exhale, slow under his broad span.

_Okay…_

Her voice trembles, stoking the darkness that flows through his form. It spurs his impulses even when grayed into his light, neither wholly leaving his incorporeal being. **SHE** can still sense him, can have him inside her, can bring him to life strongly enough to take his seed —

"Rest. You've had a long day."

— Ben wraps himself around her, imagines his limbs becoming vines to pin her sideways & clutch her tight. He traces her ear with his lips, bumps his thigh between her knees, snakes his hand under her nightgown to knead her gorged tits. He skims her pebbled nipple with his thumb, flicks the tiny bud.

"It's just us now…"

Rey tenses, straining their bond:

_Can you —_

"Softer?"

Her legs shift. _Yeah…_

A reminder to handle her delicately after leaving almost all her parts sensitive. He coasts his palms across her breast, squeezes the other to hear her gasp.

"Oh —"

He holds firmly, noticing their heft and shape. They seem bigger nearly every day.

He lets go to twist the other harder, increasing a strain bending through their link. She grits her teeth, bumps her hips against his. He bites her earlobe to hear her squeak, cleaves his hand between her tits to measure her heartbeat.

"Too much?" Ben asks.

_J- Just enough…_

She drifts her top leg forward. Lets his thigh wedge in and feel her cunt — warm through her underwear, tender to every slight shift —

"You can't help it, can you?" he hums knowingly.

Neither can Ben, not with her so close and his form seeming this material. He imagines Rey pressing her lips to a line, trying to exercise restraint.

 _It's okay,_ he tells her. _Just you and me…_

And whatever lingering shame she has about fucking a ghost. It needles through their bond, revealing her arousal even more than the sharp intake of breath and —

"Ben…"

He scoots back. She says his name like the loss of contact hurts before beginning anything. Like when they couldn't keep their hands off each other after the first time. Like all the moments she wished aloud that they should have done this before he died.

But she doesn't say it now. Stays quiet as he lifts the skirt of her nightgown, and sees a wet stripe darkening her plain underwear. He presses two fingers against the spot, already heated for his touch.

"Rey?"

"Y- Yeah?"

The pressure dampens the fabric more. "I'll never stop trying to find a way to come back. Even when you do."

She clenches reflexively. "I know."

He traces up along her ass, admiring the larger curve it's gained. Her panties are soft and tan, a shade lighter than her thighs. Ben yanks them down inelegantly to expose her rear, playfully smacks her cheeks.

"I'll remind you anyway."

"I know."

And Rey shimmies to help him roll them down to her knees, stays anchored to her side when they drop to the floor. Most of the nightgown's trapped & crumpled beneath her. Ben slinks behind again, propped on one elbow to thrust his free hand in between her legs and —

_Already wet for me?_

Her cunt glazes the pair of fingers he dips inside. He studies her profile, her features pinching as he pumps her evenly. It takes little to disarm her, to send her into a state of need. She adjusts her legs to shift his angle, to better present her opening.

"You need more?" he murmurs.

Rey bites her lip but answers through their bond, _Could you —_

She moans when he thrusts harder, soaking down his knuckles to take a third finger in her entry. Her throat moves as she swallows to keep her cool.

"Like that?" Ben asks.

She shudders with another nod, flinches in time with his increasing pace. The remaining clothes on his form seem rough compared to her matted hair, to her slicked inner thighs. Her smell grows strong & thick, winds the tension pooling in his hips.

"Did you want to rest?" he needles, twisting his wrist.

Her sloppy noises seem too loud, echo over the abandoned homestead and endless sands. Ben pushes harder, leans in to kiss her side and leave his teethmarks on her flesh. Her cunt tunnels harshly, her body tightens like she's been stung. And he prods deeper, more purposefully, even as she winces and fists the sheets.

_Oh gods —_

"Too much?" he asks, repeating the motion anyway.

_Just enough —_

She keeps getting wetter, keeps squirming nervously. Starts holding her belly and counting her breaths. Her desire bends through their connection, resurfaces all his dormant nerves, rushes all the false blood in his form straight to his cock.

"Like that?" he asks again, working to keep his voice even.

Another sharp inhale. "Ah —"

"A little more?"

She curls in like a defenseless creature, hands scurrying down to rub herself.

**"No."**

His insides flip seeing her eyes open wide. Some seconds pass before she realizes he's stopped, before she stammers his name:

"B- Ben —"

And rocks her hips carefully, filling herself on his stalled digits. His gaze stays fixed on her cunt shaping to his intrusion, still entranced months along by the blushed color & novel scent. Some seconds pass as she coasts on his fingers, gradually breaking her measured breaths.

But she obeys physically. Even when she protests internally,

_Come on, just —_

"No," Ben repeats, withdrawing with a wet slip. "Let me."

She whimpers and he urges, _Open up, sweetheart…_

_Ben —_

"LET ME."

He smacks her ass again to confirm the skin moves, that he's here with her as they're meant to be. Nothing responds to his touch like she does, if it even responds at all.

"Fine," Rey mumbles, untangling the nightgown bunched up beneath her tits. She wobbles about to peel it off, gets stuck in one of the sleeves.

(Fuck, she's so cute.)

"You too," she huffs after dropping the item to the floor.

Ben hurries to match her nudity, glancing back every few seconds to read her expressions. She finds a comfortable position, thighs parted just slightly to cool her entrance. He marvels at the visible effort, at how much she's grown already —

"You're beautiful," he blurts out, feeling pathetic jerking off at the end of the bed. "Especially like this."

He catches her eyeroll, chooses to ignore it as she balances on her hands & knees. His false heartbeat skips, he leaps to grab her nearest ankle without thinking.

**"Stop."**

Rey teeters on all fours, adjusts her stance before grumbling through their bond,

_Really?_

_Please, Rey, I —_

He sounds desperate already, scrambles to kneel behind her and pin her hips in place. Her ass plumps to frame her soaking cunt, completely hypnotizing his gaze. He attempts to explain,

_I really need this right now…_

He grabs harder, slants his pelvis to bump his cock along her entry. A warmth nudges his ribs across their connection. Her way of showing she understands, often at a loss for words too.

_Okay._

Ben's told her before that being with her — that being inside her — is one of the only times he feels alive. On a night where their conversation devolved into a mess of lost tempers and tears. When she admitted the same, that her soul's torn without its other half, and that she doesn't understand why the Force would leave them this way —

(Unless he could be brought back. Maybe. A hopeful reward after so much heartache.)

"Just… stay right there…"

Ben drapes himself over her back, careful to keep his weight on his knees. He stuffs one hand between her legs, glides the other over her hanging belly and tits. She widens her stance, flinches when he smears her clit. He holds her swollen middle. The stretched skin tenses beneath his palm. The Force surfaces on his form to seep through every place they touch and Ben shudders,

"You feel it too?"

"Y- Yes —"

Her little bud swells beneath his fingers. She sighs and trembles in his grasp, blushing and dripping down her thighs. He feels her embarrassment again, halts her impulse to apologize preemptively.

_It's not gross._

Rey cries out when he grabs her breasts, switching between them to squeeze the flesh hard. She circles to increase the friction on her clit, her middle bumps against his twisted limbs. His cock pokes her legs, rigid almost to the point of ache.

But every second he holds out makes the fantasy last longer. Of being mortal. Of being here. With her. Instead of bound to another realm for the foreseeable eternity. He kneels up to wet his cock with her arousal, grits his teeth hearing her whimper,

_Don't stop —_

His knuckles trace down her slit. _Tell me how good it feels when I touch you._

_Ben —_

She clenches against him, eager for his entry, wanting more after being ripened full by him already. He flicks her clit again, repeats himself in a sharper tone:

"Tell me —"

"You feel so fucking good," she pants. "When you touch me, when you're inside me —"

He crowds his fingers into her cunt on cue, purposefully bunching them to stretch it wider. A part of Ben hates himself for dragging her along, for playing to his darker impulses, for reaffirming his presence over and over to convince himself he isn't asleep.

"Please —"

(Having this dream come true means everything.)

Ben grunts,

"Come here —"

And pushes his cock inside her all at once, with no warning or cautious kindness, overcome by the same drive for conquest that captained his actions when he still really breathed.

"Oh gods —"

Rey wails and crumples beneath him, contracting hard and responding like he's a living being. Ben sweeps down to press his chest to her back once more, her spine tingling along his flesh. She chokes and shakes her head, straining to settle around his length. He gnaws her side, burrows his cock deeper.

"Ben —"

Her cunt is tender, narrowed by her heavy womb, dragged by her bloated middle. He balances on his knees, slides his palms to cup her belly and say,

"You feel so full on my cock —"

She sniffles, clenching with her gasping breaths. "Fuck, I- I can't help —"

"It's okay," he coos, her shame making him more excited than it should.

He pats her gently, keeps her pinned with one hand and skimming the other lower to find where they meet.

"You need to come with me inside you?"

"A- Ah —"

Her ass grinds on his pelvis, their thighs slap loud and clear in the lonely room. Ben concentrates on keeping as much of her body in view as possible, dipping in & out of her shallowed cunt. She sweats and writhes like his cock and his heir are too much to take at once. Her swollen parts bounce with his thrusts, reminding him of a feral animal instead of the pretty little Jedi she pretends to be.

_Fuck, Ben, you're so big, it's so —_

His vision swims hearing her say it, the heat below his stomach (whatever it is) searing like a blade. She swats his hand away to flick her own clit, cringing around his width as she builds intensely. He digs his nails into her hips, hopes he leaves behind more marks for her to examine in the mirror.

She moans, "Oh fuck —"

Ben grinds his jaw, bruises her skin when she clamps him harshly again. Her body slumps onto his temporarily restored form, already tired from heaving on his cock. He scrambles to support her, drowning in the urgency of her need.

"I got you," he murmurs, kneeling back.

Ben slips out and lays down. Rey turns to face him and straddles his hips. She holds herself up by her thighs to find his tip. He lines up with her entrance and guides her down gently.

"There you go." His jaw drops watching himself disappear inside her, inside the body his spectral presence remade. "Just like that —"

Ben chokes this time, his head tapping against where she ends, never quite anticipating the weight. The pressure sends him reeling. She tunnels and shifts when her limbs start to shake, sputtering,

"I'm getting really close —"

_Me too —_

He bites the space behind his lip, stunned by the flash of pain & thin coppery taste that follows.

(Like he actually has flesh and blood.)

The shock is enough to lurch away from the brink. He exhales slowly, memorizing every detail of his view. Strands of hair stick to her forehead & neck. A bead of sweat mazes down her collarbone, leaves a stripe beside a teethmark on one breast. And her belly sticks out between them, already so big with time left to go. He spans his fingers wide over it —

(The truest proof he has that he's still alive, in some sense, at least.)

— and he stares hard underneath, where she bobs on his cock, leaving a thick glossy sheen. He inches up the mattress gradually, sitting up to ease her motions.

_Ben, I don't know if I can —_

She even sounds tired through their bond. Not needing terrestrial supports is one advantage of death, and he reminds her,

"I'm here…"

Rey's palms stay pressed to her sweaty thighs as she slides down, consuming him to his base. She winces fully seated on his length, squirming to change where he ends.

"It's so much —"

"I got you…"

He reaffirms his grip to hold her still, using his renewed strength. The Force webs from his hands through her flesh, trailing to relax her sore muscles. Her cunt pushes around him, her wetness making his pelvis slippery. She throws her head back to give him a full view, leaves scratches on her own thighs.

"A- Ah —"

"Relax," Ben says. "Let me."

And he rocks his hips to fuck her from below. Rey bounces on his cock, her natural reactions intensifying the friction while barely doing anything. Her breaths grow ragged, her features rapidly crumple and strain. She holds her belly from below like it gets in the way and Ben can't help but smile and say once more,

"I got you…"

One of her hands slink down to play with her clit. Her eyes shut and her cunt pulses harsher, squeezing and dripping as she hurtles toward release. Ben gapes in amazement seeing her like this still, awed by his own power and unheard of ability. He's real enough for the mattress to creak in time with his movements, real enough to feel every inch of his cock impaling his heated little scavenger —

No, his Queen. Like all the times he pictured her this way when he was alive. (An admission that made her quiet more than anything.)

— His thrusts are rough and fast and Rey flicks her swollen nub, motions obscured by her middle and constant wiggling. She whimpers when he angles too close to her terminus, cringing & narrowing on his cock. Ben smirks and shifts where he ends, hears her cry,

"Fuck, I'm really close, I'm —"

Her words collapse with a gasp. His chest expands like air fills his lungs. She kneads her clit furiously, jerks her hips to keep him moving inside her. Every moan and sigh makes Ben feel **ALIVE** :

— and for these minutes, he really is.

"You love being full of my cock?" he manages, overwhelmed by all his faculties sensing everything at once.

Rey responds with a noise and Ben slaps her ass, asking again,

"You love being full of my cock? Feeling it inside you?"

Tears well in her half-lidded eyes, her emotions in flight. Her lust bends through their connection like a stone, igniting his as well. He loses his bearings, falls headfirst into the rush of **LIFE** he's feeling, fucks into her sloppy pregnant cunt like a mindless beast.

"Always letting me come inside you," he babbles. "Holding it so good and deep for me —"

Rey keels forward, panting as the tears Ben spotted before streak her cheeks. He raises one shaking hand, fumbles wiping them away with his thumb. His fingers cradle her face and trace her jaw as he pulls away, lying back to slot himself deeper. Rey says,

_Oh gods, I'm —_

His hips move blindly, all his discipline honed to keeping this pace. Her sounds are loud and uninhibited, truly echoing through the homestead's empty halls and abandoned backrooms. Ben rubs his hands everywhere that he can touch, her belly tenses under his palm. And this time when she says his name, it's like they've never spent any time apart at all:

"Ben!"

She comes hard. Really hard. Making sounds like a wild desert creature, crying and heaving and cringing with the strength. Her release soaks down his cock, even wetter than usual and smearing his base. Rey slumps onto him, presses her palms on his solid core to support herself — and all the warmth and tension and energy swimming through his form snaps like a broken string — 

_So fucking good —_

Ben pushes up, her cunt clenches harshly to keep him burrowed deep. His words short out. His mind blanks. His limbs shake spilling heavily inside her, his seed pooling warmly to remind him this isn't just a bizarre dream. He's here, really here, filling her with his come and sating her baser needs. The sex is so good when he's dead that he tries not to think about what it would've been like alive.

Finally his ears stop ringing as the Force beats slower through his form, and he sees Rey hanging on his cock. Bent over. Exhausted. Sweaty and dirty after washing up already. Still sitting on him, their bodies joined, her tits rising & falling as she works to catch her breath.

Ben rests his hand on her belly. Neither of them say anything holding the other's gaze. The tiny flicker is calm & even like an ocean's wave, still fast asleep. Soon the silence feels long and awkward and Ben isn't sure what to say.

"You feel so fucking good. Every time."

Rey offers a lopsided grin. "How we got in this mess in the first place."

Fair point. She waddles off his cock, grimaces seeing the mess she's left behind on him and the sheets. Ben hurries to sit up and embrace her, kisses her lips and runs his hands through her hair.

"That was amazing," he tells her. "You're amazing —"

She shrugs him off, sits at the edge of the mattress. Sighs peering down at all the new marks on her swollen body.

"I'm fine," Rey says, before Ben can even asks. "Just sore."

Ben sidles beside her to kiss her cheek, petting her middle again. He glances at their clothes still scattered on the floor. At the mirror she covered to avoid seeing that he has no reflection when they fuck.

 _Are you sure you're fine?_ he checks.

"I promise," she answers aloud.

And stands up to find the fresher without anymore conversation or ceremony. Ben finds her towel on the ground, cleans himself off with a frown. The breeze whistling through an open window crashes him back to reality. He drops the linen, has to kick it twice to make it move away. Bends over to hide his face in his hands, hating the hollowness in his bones that never goes away — hating that he can't just **BE HERE** where he belongs with **HER** , with his **CHILD** , with —

"Ben?"

He turns to the entry. Rey leans on the doorframe, cradling her stomach with a tilted head. She asks pointedly:

"Are you okay?"

Several seconds pass before he says,

"I don't know."

Ben stares down at his hands and doesn't move. Listens to Rey's footsteps across the little room. She returns to his side, wraps her arms around his torso to hug him tight.

"I'll never stop finding a way for you to come back too. Even when you do."

He blinks, recognizing his own words. "Thank you."

"I'll remind you. If you need me to."

She kisses his neck, his jaw, his cheek, and repeats,

"I'll never stop either."

Ben smiles in spite of everything. Knows her determination is genuine, despite the execution feeling like a near impossibility. He jokes,

"Ask your friends for help, maybe?"

Rey shoves him. "Don't remind me —"

"Come here —"

Ben drags her onto his lap, cradling her beneath her knees. She curls into his chest, playfully tastes his flesh. Their heartbeats will stay linked for these next several minutes, maintaining the illusion a bit longer before his body withers back to its usual… spectral state.

"I'll be here when you wake up tomorrow." A promise he can keep when he returned to this plane so recently.

"Okay."

"We'll come up with a schedule. Like you said."

Rey nods with a little shiver. Sprout kicks against Ben's resting hand.

"I'll come back," he vows. "No matter what."

And right here, right now —

They both believe it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/theselittlefics)
> 
> [Works Page](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theselittlethings/works)
> 
> Thank you again ❤


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